


What Isn't Said

by j_gabrielle



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Florist!Credence Barebone, Fluff, Language of Flowers, Love at First Sight, M/M, Percival needs a push in the right direction sometimes, Tattoo Artist!Percival Graves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 18:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: Percival is looking at the roses when a handsome young man comes out, wiping down his hands on the front of his apron. Percival is immediately taken with the way his shoulder length hair is tied back in a messy half bun, the way he licks his bottom lip at the sight of him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on elisebazinga's amazing photoset for an AU aesthetic with florist Credence and tattoo artist Percival: http://elisebazinga.tumblr.com/post/154463654762/au-aesthetic-florist-credence-tattoo-artist

Tina's voice is in his ear as he pinches his nose. Damn. He forgot.

Her sister Queenie pats him on the arm as he moves to grab his coat. "Did you prepare anything?" He asks, hastily wrapping his scarf around his neck.

She raises a perfect eyebrow. "With Tina living in the same house as me? How could I not? We bought a gift three months ago." Queenie wrinkles her nose, "You best get moving before Tina is done with Jake's armpiece. I can see him giving me the look of someone in pain."

"No pain, no gain. Tell him that." Percival sighs, waving goodbye. 

He had completely forgotten about the party they had planned for Picquery, the owner of the tattoo parlour they all work at. She's getting remarried in two weeks and they felt like they should acknowledge the event somehow. Even though Percival has known her the longest out of all of them, and definitely knows she would just rather they all show up to her wedding with as little fanfare as possible. Damn it. Percival searches his coat pockets for his pack of Dunhill. He left it back at the shop. 

Pressing his curse into the knit of his scarf, he seethes. Best get this over with so that he can pick up on the design he was working on for Newt, one of his regulars. The man is asking for a rhino on skates sitting on a tree, though it is not the most unusual thing the Brit has asked for. Newt gives him free reign on the designs, for which he is glad for. Makes for a welcomed change from all the usual that he gets. 

Percival is racking his mind for something to get Picquery when he spots his reflection on the florist's shop window. He has passed by here a few times before on his way to the Underground when his bike was in the shop. Picquery does not hate flowers as much as she hates teddy bears or chocolates. Quickly ducking through the door, he takes deep lung full of the warmth and the scents that hit him. The bell hanging overhead tinkles as the door shuts, pushing him further into the shop. "Just a minute! I'll be right there with you!" Comes the voice from the back room.

He doesn't answer, sticking his hands into his pockets as he makes a turn around the florals. He is no green thumb, but even he can pick out some of these that are out of season. Percival is looking at the roses when a handsome young man comes out, wiping down his hands on the front of his apron. Percival is immediately taken with the way his shoulder length hair is tied back in a messy half bun, the way he licks his bottom lip at the sight of him.

"Can I help you?" He asks, fiddling with tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. The florist keeps his eyes averted, and Percival takes care to keep his body language as relaxed as possible. He knows how he can come across sometimes with his tattoos, the perma scowl on his face.

"I need to buy a bouquet."

"Is it a special occasion?"

Percival walks closer to him, still taking care to keep a distance. "She's getting married." He looks at the man, taking in the way his eyes watch him carefully.

"Is she special?" The man asks softly, ducking his head and moving past him to fuss at the pots of snowdrops. 

Percival considers the question, thumbing at the ribbons that lie on the countertop. "In a way. She's like family. We go way back." He shrugs, "It's a remarriage. The guy's decent, makes her and the kids happy, more than her ex ever did."

It is a moment before he registers what he had just said. "I don't know why I told you that."

"It's the face." The florist chuckles, his long lashes beating a shadow as his eyes crinkle. He seems to catch himself, cheeks rouging. "I think I know what you need." Turning, he goes to the blush pink peonies, gathering them. Coming back to Percival, he holds them up. "Peonies. Out of season, but I think these would be what you need."

The faint fragrance of the blooms is soft and unintrusive. "They're beautiful."

The florist smiles, emboldened by his approval. He moves to the counter and bundling the flowers up with paper and a length of ribbon. Percival carefully lets himself linger on the curve of his lips, the way a curl falls over his eye as he works. "I never caught your name." He says eventually.

Percival catches the tenseness in his shoulder that lasts just for a second. "Credence." The florist replies, and just like that, the moment is gone. "Do you want me to write a note or something?"

"It's fine. I'll be the only one bringing flowers, so it'll be alright." He answers. Taking out his wallet as Credence rings his purchase, he takes a chance, asking, "Do you have a name card? Just in case I need flowers."

Credence takes a small box from beside the till, opening it and picking out a card. "Just in case." He says shyly. It is all desperately alluring and before he can think better of it, Percival reaches into a slot in his wallet, pulling out his card. 

"Just in case you're looking to get a tattoo done. I'm just a few blocks down. I'll give you a discount for helping me out with the flowers." He rubs his free hand on the back of his neck. 

Credence takes it, eyes wide. "Thank you." 

Percival shakes his head. "It's nothing. Thanks. For, you know?" Credence pockets his card, smiling shyly again. Percival beats a swift retreat before he can embarass himself further. Stuffing his hands down his pockets, he seethes as he walks back to the parlour.

Queenie greets him with another arch of her perfect brow. "What did you get her?"

"Peonies." Percival replies, unfurling himself from his scarf. "Pretty ones."

"Yeah, okay. But where are they?"

Percival frowns, looking to his hands. "They're just right-"

The parlour door opens and Credence is there with the bouquet. He is panting, flush with exertion, and Percival cannot stop the thought that Credence would look so much better this way in his bed. "Flowers. You forgot them. The Peonies." He gasps.

Percival reaches out to take the bouquet, their fingers touching. There is a definite spark at the contact. "Thank you." He says, watching Credence raise his eyes to meet his. 

Too soon, Credence snatches his hand away. "I've got to go. Back to the shop."

"Okay." Percival says dumbly, watching Credence retreat.

He is still standing there, following Credence's figure as he disappears into the flow of the crowd when Queenie comes to nudge him with an elbow. "Here. Newt bought these for Teen, and I think you need this too." He feels her lip a stalk of daffodil into his hand. She takes the bouquet of peonies from him. "Go ask him out for Costa. You don't have any appointments for the rest of the day. Just make sure you get back in time for the party."

Percival turns to her, still uncomprehending when she rolls her eyes. "Florist guy. Go." She physically pushes him out of the shop. "And don't come back until you've taken him out!" She waves cheerily at him.

Looking down at the daffodil in his hand, he swallows. He doesn't know what it means to be giving flower to a florist, but it can't be any stranger than how he is so drawn to the shy florist he just met.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to add more flowers into this fic, but I kinda wanted to put it out there before I lost the groove. So these are some of the flowers that did make it into the fic and what they mean.
> 
> Snowdrop - Hope; that winter will end and spring (warmth) will come  
> Peonies - Long and happy marriage  
> Daffodils - Desire for affection to be returned; requited love, desire


End file.
